Red not Blue
by JoinTheDarkSide
Summary: Damian asks Tim for help. Tim agrees.
"Drake." Damien said as he pushed open the door to Tim's room without knocking.

Tim swiveled his chair around to face Damien and raised one of his eyebrows.

"Demon brat." he replied.

Damien tsked.

"They claim that you possess the ability to lie to the Batman himself." He said.

"Well, it wouldn't be a very good ability if these 'they' people were able to detect it enough times to make that statement now would it." Tim said.

Upon hearing the convoluted sentence, Damien grew hesitant but forged on.

"Are you saying you are unable?"

"Maybe, maybe not, why don't you tell me what use you have for this supposed … _talent_ of mine before I say either way." Tim suggested smirking.

"You annoy me Drake." Damien drawled with narrowed eyes. "But fine, I wish to have my revenge upon Grayson, unfortunately, as he is currently helping Father with a _very_ important case, I am unable to reap his mortal life."

Tim saw Damien's shifty eyes as he said the last sentence and his smirk softened into a smile. He knew how fond his younger brother was of their older brother, and he had come to see that, even if Damien's attitude could do with a little fixing. With a little sigh, he decided pranks were in fact a part of helping his brother integrate into civilian life.

"Well, I have been waiting for an opportunity to get back at him after last time." Tim mused and saw his brother perk up, partially in interest and partly with hope. "Alright, I'll help you. What do you need my magnificent lying skills for?"

A sharp grin made its way across the younger boy's face as he told his older brother about his scheme.

Dick climbed the stairs after a fairly tiring patrol only to see Damian walking out of Tim's room smiling. A cold shiver made its way down his spine and he barged into Tim's room.

Tim slowly swiveled around on his swirly chair until he fully faced Dick.

"How may I help you?" Tim asked with one brow raised.

"You're fine." Dick breathed.

"I don't see why I wouldn't be?"

"I just saw Damian walk out of your room smiling. I kind of assumed something happened."

"Well I don't know what you're talking about so you must have imagined it."

"Yeah," Dick stammered, "yeah totally. You wouldn't be so blase about it otherwise right? Right." Dick weakly said in return.

Tim just smiled at him back and after whole seconds of them just looking at each other, Dick decided it was time for him to leave and so he turned and exited Tim's room. As soon as the door closed, Tim dropped his smile and sighed before rolling his eyes. His brothers were such troublesome people sometimes, he thought as he returned back to his work.

The rest of the week passed suspiciously smoothly for Dick, especially considering the fact the he often saw Damian and Tim in close proximity and yet no flying fists had been recorded as of yet. Damian too was still walking around with smug smirks on his face and Dick's worry for Tim just kept ranking up notches. He had to say that whatever was going on, it was no good for his stress levels.

Granted, he would have loved to pretend that Tim and Damian were finally getting along, but he had to be a realist as well. The most likely scenario was that the two had shaken on some kind of truce and he was just waiting for it to end in a flaming ball of fire.

It absolutely did not help that every time he asked Tim what was going on, he was smoothly deflected and placed on another topic of conversation. All happening as Tim gave him indulgent smile after indulgent smile. He really didn't know what to think anymore.

Or at least he didn't, until the day he decided to shampoo his hair a week into his sibling's strange behaviour.

Tim had always known that pranking Dick would be a tiresome, but worthy, venture. He never thought that he would be on Damian's side when pranking his brother, but had to admit that they got along well when not at each other's throats. He might consider reevaluating the way he interacted with the youngest Wayne child after this was all over.

Either way, the two of them had been forced to wait for a time when Dick would be gone from the Manor for most of the day as well as a time when he was planning on going out on patrol straight after. They snuck into his room and added hair dye to his shampoo and took his spare costume and soaked it in some fire truck red dye. And then they waited.

As soon as almost everyone under the roof was asleep, they went down to the cave and took the costume that Dick had been wearing and put it through the same process that they did his spare. Once the two were dried, they replaced them where they had been tucked away and crept back to their beds satisfied on a job well done and relatively undetected.

During breakfast the next day, Bruce noticed how fidgety his youngest sons were being had been debating with himself as to whether or not to ask when he heard a piercing scream come from the upper floor of the manor. He decided that it was better that he not know when the two children eating breakfast before him started snickering in eerie unison. A brief inner battle before he decided that he still needed to fulfill his fatherly duties and he eventually spoke up.

"Boys, what have I said about causing your siblings undue distress?"

"Not to?" They chimed in harmony.

Bruce wondered what he did to deserve this, but before he could get any further, his eldest barged into the dining room breathing heavily with a head full of red hair. Bruce lifted an eyebrow as his youngest children started up their snickering all over again.

"Wow Dick, don't you think you're a little too old for the rebellion stage?" Tim asked

"You. You did this to me. My beautiful locks. They must be avenged!" Dick cried as he charged towards him.

"It wasn't me!" Tim yelled in return.

"Truly Grayson, your detective skills must be defective if you think Drake had enough brain cells to think this up."

"So, you confess then."

"I do no such thing."

"Well then, who did it?"

By this time, Bruce had pulled the newspaper high enough that it hid him from his children and more importantly, blocked the scene from him. He sometimes despaired of his progeny, biological or not. However, he was wondering if it might have been a mistake silence fell. He lowered his paper only to see both Tim and Damian pointing to him and Dick wearing a shit eating grin.

"Bruce!" Dick howled and he leapt over the table to bowl Bruce over.

They fell over in a tangle of limbs as Tim and Damian's laughter rang through the dining room.

"Ah-hem."

Bruce looked up to see Alfred looming over the two of them with a disappointed look on his face.

"Master Bruce, if we wanted to roll through the house in such a manner, I do not see why we would need floor in the first place."

Bruce gaped up at his stand-in father as the man walked back into the kitchen as his children laughed at his misfortune. Dick untangled himself from him and dared hold out a hand to help him up.

"Come on old man," he teased when Bruce refused to take it, "you're not as young as you used to be you know."

"One day Dick, one day." Bruce grumbled as he took the hand and heaved himself off the ground. The rest of breakfast went off in peace for once.

Bruce knew the tranquility of the morning couldn't have lasted. He knew he shouldn't have expected it to, but perhaps Clark was right and hope had a way of seeping into the very corners of your soul when you were least expecting it. A yell came from the changing rooms of the cave. A very familiar yell. In fact, he might even go so far as to say that it was the exact same yell as the one he heard that morning.

Bruce heaved a deep sigh and turned to Tim and Damian. "Ok, what did you do."

They turned their innocent faces towards him and just shrugged. However, their clear amusement gave them away.

Dick walked out in his usual Nightwing suit, only the blue had been replaced by red. He looked an interesting sight with his bright red hair paired with the red of the costume. Even Bruce was fighting laughter at the picture.

Dick turned his doe eyes towards him and whispered, "Et tu Bruce?"

He couldn't help himself, he started laughing along with his sons. Dick sulked for a second or two before giving in to the humor of the situation and added his laughter to the sound ringing through the cave.

When everyone had their fill, Dick spoke up. "But seriously guys, please tell me you left my spare alone. I can't go out like this."

At that moment Alfred cleared his throat and diverted their attention to him. "Young Master Dick, I believe that this might help." He said gesturing to the cloth draped over his forearm.

Dick took it and spread it out only to see that it was an adaptation to his current costume. "Aww, the fingerstripes are gone."

"Well, yes, I did not quite have enough to redo the whole thing."

"That's alright Alfie. Thanks." Dick gave Alfred a hug making I'm-watching-you gestures towards his siblings as they made faces back at him.

"Go and change Dick." Bruce sighed at his children's antics. He wondered if he should be dreading the upcoming 4th of July family gathering. At least Tim and Damian hadn't been clashing as much, that was a plus. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Alfred give him a knowing look and he knew, despite his chagrin at their antics, he was actually looking forward to having his family back together under one roof.


End file.
